


Clipped Wings Grow Back

by Ardra



Series: Here, there be Monsters [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, F/F, F/M, Gay Sex, Gen, Harpies, M/M, Multi, Original Characters (sort of) - Freeform, Other, Werewolves, borrowed items from other non-related things, nagas, other various mythical creatures, will tag more later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2019-01-16 22:55:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12352248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ardra/pseuds/Ardra
Summary: Haunted by past mistakes, Dirk feels alienated from his family and those around him. One evening, he decides to leave his house a little too late and a near death experience will turn out to be the start of something that makes him feel closer to those around him.





	Clipped Wings Grow Back

Dirk Strider was sneaking out of his house. There was no way to rephrase that to make it sound any less accusatory. The simple fact of the matter was that he was getting stir crazy in the house, and he needed an escape. Shame he couldn’t escape the way that his brother could, but he took the licks as they came. He stopped by the door, trying to quickly put on his shoes. He was hoping he would be quick enough that he didn’t alert anyone that he was leaving so late in the afternoon, but he rationalized that it would only be for an hour or so. Real quick. No one would even notice he was gone.

“ARK!”

Dirk flinched before he pressed his forehead to the door, that loud caw telling him more than he was willing to admit himself. He was in trouble, or at the very least he was caught red handed. Turning around slowly, Dirk was relieved to see the black feathers of one father, rather than the other. He kept his face impassive, like he didn’t just get caught doing something wrong. “Hey, Pa.”

Dale’s mouth pinched and shifted, his head tilting up as he reached up and used one taloned hand to scratch under the neck ruffs of feathers. Dirk’s immediate family were harpies. Two mated males, with two sons, which was a rather interesting coincidence but none of them believed in fate or destiny or that sort of shit. Dale was a crow harpy, his feathers the same iridescent black color of oil, the man preferring to stay in a partial form that showed his wings, talons and neck ruff. Actually, all of his family stayed in a form like that when they weren’t flying, save for Dirk, who stayed in a fully human form. Dale pulled a loose feather from his neck, inspecting it before he flicked it away.

“Dirk. It’s getting close to curfew,” Dale said, a slight smirk on his face that Dirk couldn’t really place the meaning of. “Your dad will birth a whole whale if he caught you instead of me.”

Ah, there was the reason for the smirk. He was imagining his husband birthing said whale. “Gross, Pa. It’s not too close to curfew.”

“Daryl would think otherwise.”

“Augh! I’m not a chick! I can handle myself. Dad doesn’t need to worry.” Dirk protested as he leaned down and fixed the tongue of his shoe.

“He would be less worried if you could fly,” Dale said softly, but Dirk heard it nonetheless.

“Well, that’s not an option.” Dirk muttered bitterly, reaching up to touch his neck where a mass of pock mark scars mixed in with dark freckles on pale skin, the same scars running down his shoulders under his shirt and over his exposed arm.

Dale gave his son a look that was both sympathetic and critical. Dirk knew what it meant but his fathers would never say it out loud. They never outright spoke about such a sensitive topic, but he knew what they were thinking and he hated it. His father asked him, “When will you be back?”

“Before curfew. I’m just going to see the herbalist for more potions.” Dirk said, the lie falling from his mouth as easy as it always did. He did plan on being back before curfew, but he wasn’t going to the herbalist and neither of his fathers would let him go to his actual destination without an escort and usually his escort is his brother, Dave, but Dave wasn’t home, and he would die of embarassment if Dale or Daryl tried to hold his talons to escort him to his destination. Again.

Dale’s head cocked to the side sharply, his face betraying how thoroughly he was scrutinizing the words he heard. Lying to Dale was easier than lying to Daryl. While Daryl was over protective and critical to the point of being a control freak, Dale was more easy going and tended to just let the boys do whatever they wanted as long as no one died in the end or was severely hurt. Dale’s dark eyes watched him with increasing scrutiny and Dirk felt a fine sheen of sweat blanket the back of his neck, his brain beginning to supply him with exit strategies for if his pa called his bluff but it wasn’t need as Dale rolled both his shoulders to dismiss his thoughts, “Alright. If you get caught, I didn’t let you leave.”

Dirk let out the breath he wasn’t even aware he’d been holding as Dale pivoted on his feet with a rather dramatic flounce of his wings and headed back into the house. Dirk wasn’t sure if his dad knew that he wasn’t really going to herbalist but he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth for fear of being kicked and bolted out the door before anyone else could catch him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Dirk planned to go to his cousin’s house to ask her for some help in some code work, he didn’t really expect to arrive to said cousin home alone and completely plastered but life seemed to like to make things difficult for him on the best of days. He’d been pounding on the door for far too long to be considered polite or patient when Roxy finally answered by throwing the door open and leaning heavily on the door frame. Yeah, it wasn’t hard for Dirk to deduce that he wasn’t going to be getting anything useful out of her any time soon. Not only plastered but was a disaster in her own clothing. Everything was either disheveled beyond acceptable levels or had some foreign spot on it that looked suspiciously like a drink other than the clear vodka she usually partook in. Dirk knew that his aunt kept more than one brand of spirits around the house, even though Dale has told her many times to lock it up and keep it out of reach of the girls. Must be hard to be a good parent when you are plastered most of the time.

“Rox… Seriously?” Dirk asked almost bitterly as his cousin giggled, twirling and pulling at the tank top on her chest that she loved. She was stretching it out and Dirk didn’t want to have to repair that shirt again. Deities above knows that if Rose’s girlfriend had to make her another one of these tank tops, that woman was going to drain Roxy of all her blood by stringing her up in a tree by her ankles.

“Diiirky-Dirk! I wasn’t exspesin’ you dis day~” Roxy slurred her speech in a way that made Dirk’s scowl deepen, “Dun’cha lookit me like dat!”

Dirk’s chest swelled before all the air escaped him in an annoyed huff when he had to reach out and steady Roxy as she wobbled on her feet, “I guess I can get your help online another time. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Roxy leaned heavily on him before she pressed her face to his collar bone as he pulled her close to him, “Dirk, do ya thin’ I’m purty?”

Dirk flinched at this old story as he shifted her weight against him, suddenly more than a little uncomfortable about where she was putting her face and how close she was to him, “Rox, please. We’ve been over this.”

“I knooow! Yer gay as yer dads.” she pouted up at him.

“Also, we’re cousins.” Dirk said as he pressed his hand to the small of her back to urge her forward.

“S’not ‘ven blood relationsings.” Roxy rumbled, the word blood sounding like it had too many o’s in the spelling but whatever. Dirk wasn’t having his argument with her again. He had it with her once before, another time she was drunk, and it ended with her throwing up all over his shoes. He didn’t want to be doing that again.

Dirk helped Roxy get to her room, being careful to avoid the salt circle that Rose put outside her own room with a frown, “What’s wrong with Rose?”

Roxy scoffed and shot a look towards her little sister’s room, “She’s /mad/ at me. I think she’s ealous of Mom spending soooooo much time with me.”

Dirk rolled his eyes behind his shades, “Roxy, it’s not quality time if you’re both drunk and those kind of circles don’t work on you.”

“Aw. You were listening!” Roxy giggled at him as he helped her over the tangle of wires near her bedroom door.

“Despite what you think, I always listen. You just never shut up. You and Dave. I swear you and I were born in the wrong families.” Dirk said, unceremoniously depositing Roxy into her bed.

Roxy let loose a wobbly sounding giggle as she landed on the pillows and stretched her arms over her head, letting out an almost purring sound as she did so. Once she stretched enough, she relaxed on the bed, “Can you imagine me with wings? It would be totes amaze-balls! Lemme see your wings, Dirky!” she sat up quickly before her grin faded as she realized she touched on a sensitive topic when Dirk visibly flinched, his hand reaching up unconsciously to rub at the scars along his shoulders and neck, “Oops. Sorry.”

“I’m over it. Take your clothes off and get into some sleeping clothes.” Dirk said, shrugging as he headed to the closet to find the clothes for her.

“For a guy who’s ‘over it’, you do tend to spend a lot of time looking awfully resentful towards Dave when he’s flyin’.” Roxy said as she pulled her shirt over her head.

Dirk sighed. He didn’t want to have this conversation. Especially not when Roxy was this drunk. He didn’t want to talk about anything like that, especially not any ill feelings he might or might not be harbouring towards his family members who could fly. It wasn’t a thing, alright? It was once when he was a little fledgling, but it wasn’t anymore. He knew where the blame lied and he was over it. He accepted it. It was done.

Eventually the silent treatment informed the drunk girl that this topic wasn’t going to be elaborated on further, and that it was dead in the water. Not to be deterred from much Roxy made a face at him that transformed her scrutinizing gaze into a playful pout, “Will you stay until Rose gets home? She went to her girlfriend’s house and I don’t wanna be alone.”

Despite the fact that he knew he should head home instead, he decided to stay with her. He liked Roxy a lot, but sometimes it was hard to deal with her drinking, her flirting and her general nonsense but despite all of that, he did love her. Just not in the way that she wanted. Eventually, Dirk helped her into some clean clothes then settled to listen to her talk for far too long when Rose finally got home and relieved him of drunk Roxy duty and shoo him out of their house. The Lalondes lived at the very top of a cliff and to get to it, you needed to fly or be as amazing as Dirk and figure out how to scale the face of the cliff. Sadly, it took some time to do this and by the time he got to the ground again, the sun had set fully, blanketing the world in a darkness that was cut only by the light of the moon overhead. Yup. He was so dead.

He wondered who would kill him and who would be the one to pick the meat off of his bones. Probably his pa would eat him. He was a scavenger after all, and he did partake in meat the most out of the two oldest harpies. Dirk pondered this as he followed the trail he’d taken to get here. It was a shorter distance to travel by flight but this was his only means of getting anywhere and once again he had to push down the self hatred that roared to a boil inside of him again. Why did he do that? What was even the purpose of it again? He couldn’t even remember why it used to be a thing now that it no longer was one but holy hell was the damage more than done. What even caused it? He couldn’t really grasp the memory, especially not with the nagging feeling that he was being watched making him stop in the middle of the road and glance around.

There were a lot of wild animals in the area, but nothing moved in the dark of the trees. A few leaves brushed past the path ahead of him on the path, swirling in a tiny vortex before floating on with their business. Dirk decided to just keep going, and quicken his pace a little bit. There wasn’t much to worry about with other monsters, but there were always rumors in town of rouge humans being around and then monsters going missing soon after. Even though the war between monsters and humans ended long before he was born, Dirk was always told that some humans resented monsters for calling for peace, and wanted them to be wiped out so they could have the lands all to themselves instead of sharing. They wouldn’t be above skilling a harpy on his own just because he was a young teenager. Something moved in his peripheral, and his steps faltered. He let his arms shift and transform into their talon equiped form. His bones stretched, muscles warped, skin hardened and scaled as his nails extended and curled. They weren’t as deadly as his pa’s since he wasn’t a crow, but it could wound until he could get away.

Dirk’s eyes narrowed, he couldn’t see much behind his shades so he pushed them up off his face and felt the air leave his lungs as a pair of eyes glowed from the bushes right at him. Fuck! That was worse than a human and there was no fighting that!

Dirk back peddled and tore down the road. It was useless, he knew, but it was better than just standing there to get killed. His feet pounded the road, his ears strained and his heart clawed its way up into his throat to hammer there as he heard the unmistakable sound of something chasing after him. Fuck fuck fuck fuck! Dirk could see town just up ahead, if he could get close enough to scream then maybe someone with a gun could help him, or at least make the damage less than what it was going to be. Sadly, fate decided that he wasn’t going to be that lucky and instead of leaving his path clear, she decided that a large branch needed to be under a small pile of leaves to catch around his foot and send him crying out the ground. He tried to break his fall, but only ended up rolling his wrist and still smacking his head on the ground when he landed. He groaned in pain, sitting up and cradling his wrist to his chest as hot heat seared his nerves. His vision swam and a soft thud reminded him of why he was running in the first place. Whipping his head a little too fast for the blow’s liking, he finally got a full view of the creature as his blood stretched icy fingers through every vein in his system.

It lumbered forward. Fur of a deep chestnut with lighter brown in the front of its muzzle, down its neck and over its chest. It had to be at least twice his size if he was standing up right. Long tongue hung out of its mouth as it panted, not from exertion because Dirk didn’t run that fast or that long. Dirk shook as it stepped closer. Oh gods, it was going to mess with him before it ate him. This was how he died. Eaten by a fucking werewolf because he was too stupid to stay home when there was a curfew and his dads told him to stay inside. This is how it all ended. The werewolf hunched down, taking the last two steps on all fours, its back legs folded under it a bit like a mix between a frog and a human as it leaned its snout forward, taking a few puffing sniffs. Dirk recoiled, putting up one arm as if that would do anything. Such a chick reaction. The werewolf made a soft noise that Dirk couldn’t place with his thoughts running a million miles an hour before everything came to a screeching halt when a fluffy head was pressed into the hand he put out.

Dirk remained motionless, eyes widening in surprise as the werewolf’s tail thumped happily against the foliage and dirt while it rubbed its head into Dirk’s outstretched hand as if trying to get the harpy to pet him. All the thoughts in Dirk’s head ran in a single broken loop of ‘holy fuck’ over and over until the werewolf huffed at him unhappily and pressed its head more insistently into his hand. What the fuck? Dirk tried hard to keep his trembling down, werewolves could smell fear like any animal could so it was way out of the question to try and not show fear, this werewolf already knew he was scared. He ran his hand through the fur, tensing when the tail began to thump against the ground harder to the point where the werewolf’s hind quarters were almost moving with it. The werewolf let out a new sound and surged forward, Dirk recoiled while squawking rather loudly but the werewolf was only getting closer to him, pressing his ear into Dirk’s hand this time.

‘Holy fucking shit.’ Dirk thought as he scratched behind the werewolf’s ear, his disbelief mounting when the wolf melted into the touch, “What the actual fuck is going on?”

The werewolf blinked its eyes open at his uttered words. Dirk didn’t even realize he spoke aloud until the werewolf responded and lifted its fuzzy head to look at him. The eyes were a deep green color and it seemed to consider him before it leaned forward and ran its wet tongue over Dirk’s face. Dirk let out a new cry, this one a delicate mixture of surprise, shock, fear and disgust. His hands grabbed at the werewolf’s neck to catch on something hard there. Dirk blinked as the werewolf pulled away, tail still thumping as Dirk fished a thick leather collar from the deep recesses of the fur and studied it. What the hell? When did werewolves wear collars? And when did those collars have tags on them?

“ARK! ARK!!”

Dirk jerked in alarm at the cry of his name before a flash of white and black blinded him, and the werewolf was no longer practically in his lap. The wolf rolled back to its feet, tail tucked firmly between its legs, ears conforming to the shape of its head and body hunched in on itself. Dirk could definitely make out the sounds of whimpers as the werewolf took a few hesitant steps towards the tree lines. A pair of legs stepped in front of Dirk, a huge pair of white and black tipped wings opened as far as they could, puffing and looking even bigger than their already huge size allowed as they shielded Dirk mostly from the werewolf. The werewolf let out a rather pathetic whine as green met orange one last time before the werewolf fled, tail not leaving its spot nested between its legs. Dirk blinked out of the trance as the white wings started to slowly lower but a pair of arms grabbed ahold of him, hauling him to his feet. Numbly, Dirk barely registered Dale fretting over him, checking him for serious injury. His pa was saying something. His mouth kept forming shapes, his neck working to make sounds as his iridescent wings folded against his back but nothing made sense to Dirk’s brain. He was supposed to be dead. Why wasn’t he dead? 

A new weight landed on his shoulder and he was steered to turn to face someone else. This man was taller than Dale by a full head which was covered in blonde hair that was naturally accented with red, a white plumage of feathers around his neck like a fancy boa, light brown-orange eyes bore into his and he had to avert his gaze as the world started to come back as his dad tried to get him to ground himself. All at once, sound returned to the Earth and Dirk wished it would go back to being quiet because the sound was worse. He could feel every hand on him weighing him down, he could feel gravity holding him down, he could feel the way his dad’s talons twitched on his shoulder. He could feel the burning ache of his wrist, the throb of his battered head, the agony in his twisted ankle. It was too much.

“Dirk, breathe, son. It’s gone. Take a breath in, you’ll be alright.” his dad’s words made sense but he couldn’t collect himself enough to follow his words. Everything was too much, “Shit.”

“I’ll carry him, Daryl.” Dale said, waving his husband off their son and scooping the smaller harpy into his arms.

His brain began supplying him with too much information. He was acutely aware of every muscle movement as his pa cradled him to his chest bridal style. He was acutely aware of the thick wings extending to their full form, of the muscles moving against his shoulder of his pa’s chest to compensate for the powerful downward sweep of those powerful wings on powerful muscles. He was acutely aware of gravity trying to claw him back to Earth as he rose into the sky in his pa’s arms. He could acutely remember the feel of the leather collar under his fingers as they were brushed by the fur, the feel of the cold metal as he found the tags that were dangling there and the single word engraved into the metal.

‘Jake.'

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr is ardra-c
> 
> Message me there for any questions!


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